A Pueblo Christmas
by Paulsmum2001
Summary: Diego's Christmas. Ignacio de Soto is throwing his weight around again, much to everyone's discomfort. A visit from the supernatural leads him to reconsider his past, present and future. Will he regain some of his humanity or continue to be hard and bitter? (The visit of the Ghost of Christmas Future will be a little traumatic..."deaths" of characters...) Change to M in case.
1. Chapter 1

Diego was genuinely engrossed in his piano playing for once, when his father rushed through to the library.

"Have you heard what he's done now?"

Diego kept playing, with half an ear focused on his father's latest rant. The alcalde always seemed to get a little more heated around Christmas time. He wondered why, as he stumbled on a note. He turned, and gave his full attention to his father.

"Another tax?" He asked innocently.

"He's banned all Christmas celebrations. He says the grouping of more than two unrelated people constitutes a threat. He is raving about possible riots…"

"He's going to get a riot if he bans Christmas…"

"What was that, Diego? You really must learn to speak more clearly if you want to be understood." Alejandro glanced at his son. "You've been playing for hours. Seems like your practicing has come to nothing. No party this year, Diego."

"Seems not," Diego said thoughtfully.

"We will have Victoria over, she has no relations in town this year. Maybe Mendoza," Alejandro said.

"That's making the most of it. It will be nice to have a small gathering this year," Diego said with half a smile playing on his lips. Alejandro watched as a tiny flush spread over his cheeks, before he turned back to the piano.

"I wonder what Victoria's favourite carol is?" Alejandro said suddenly.

"A la Nanita Nana," Diego said without thinking. "I…think….I really can't be sure."

Alejandro gave his son a quizzical look and was startled by the fidgety way Diego shifted off the seat of the piano and gathered up some musical notations.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Father. Why would anything be wrong?" Diego glanced up. "I received a letter from a friend in Germany, and there is a new Christmas song. It's called Silent Night in English and it's got a very soothing melody. I was hoping to practice it before the party."

"You thought the ladies might appreciate a melody?"

"Well, I thought a new song would be a curiosity at least."

"You know, you play music on the piano a great deal, Diego. Perhaps a piece on a guitar would be a novelty as well…." Alejandro said thoughtfully.

Diego stared at his father for a moment, and smiled. "That's the first time you've shown an interest in my music."

"Really?" Alejandro frowned a little. "I always appreciate it. You do have some talent."

Diego glanced away, and shrugged a little. Praise was a rarity in his life, and it startled him when it was so obvious. "Thank you, Father."

"Well…" Alejandro said uncomfortably. "I have errands to run. I will see you at dinner. Try not to get too obsessed with Christmas melodies…"

Diego watched him go, and smiled a little more, although it was bittersweet. They both short changed each other in what they needed from each other, but they still loved and needed each other more every day. It was a strange, strained relationship.


	2. Chapter 2

The alcalde was eating at his usual table. He watched Diego approach his normal seat at the bar with interest.

"Mendoza tells me you've invited him for Christmas lunch, Don Diego," he said, taking a sip of his wine. "Odd choice for your only guest…"

"Only guest? I was aware the rules stipulated two," Diego said with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, Felipe is counted in the two," De Soto answered. Diego met his eyes and they regarded each other thoughtfully for a moment. Then Diego sighed, and frowned a little in confusion.

"You're mistaken, Felipe has been recently adopted. He is my son," Diego said. De Soto could not mistake the edge to the tall man's voice.

"The rules stipulate blood relations, Don Diego. It goes for everybody, and every household. It's only fair."

Diego nodded slowly, and turned back towards the bar. De Soto smiled. He had finally seen some fire in the man's eyes. He had managed to disturb the happy go lucky idiocy of the man. He shrugged a little. More letters to the governor wouldn't do him any good, Christmas was next week, and the governor was too busy and too corrupt to care about one caballero's complaints.

De Soto considered Diego's stiffened back, and wondered if the young man would act in any way against him. Maybe he would thwart the rules, insist on having whatever guests he wanted. He'd have to have him watched next week.

Zzz

It had taken all of Diego's self-control not to complain to De Soto about his stupid rules. He'd had no sleep lately, and his nerves were wearing a little thin. De Soto had no right to dictate terms of Christmas celebrations, but no one could stop him. There was one man, of course, but that man absolutely refused to commit to anything but sleep for the next few days. It wasn't that bad, and it was only for a few days. He'd hate to get sick again over Christmas.

"What's wrong?" Victoria asked, eyeing his rare frown. She reached out and touched his arm, drawing him back from his daydream. "You look so tired. No more reading late at night, alright? Do it for me."

"Your wish is my command," he murmured, taking a sip of his customary juice. It covered a number of slips, that handy glass. He realised too late that he had used his Zorro voice by accident yet again. One day the smart lady he loved would realise. He really must be more careful around her.

"What is it?"

"De Soto. His mad rules about Christmas have prevented my plans for our celebrations. I'll get over it. Most people in town have to."

"What has he done now?"

"Blood relations…Felipe is classified as a guest."

"Alcalde! Is this true? Felipe is a de la Vega by law."

"Yes, but not by blood," De Soto sneered. "And unless you both want to spend Christmas in jail I suggest you accept that ruling."

"Christmas is a week away," Diego replied a little shocked. "You'd put up with us for a week in the cells? You really must be desperate."

"Diego," Victoria said softly, touching his arm. "I think he means it. You know how he gets about Christmas. I don't want to be wasting time in that place, not over one of my busiest times. The tavern will be closed by law on Christmas day. What would your father say, Diego? You need to be together for Christmas."

I'd listen to your friend, Don Diego," De Soto said softly.


	3. Chapter 3

"Rules are rules, I suppose. There will be letters written to the governor on this issue and not just from me," Diego huffed. "Several of my peers had plans as well."

"It's within every Spaniard's rights to write to the governor," the alcalde shrugged.

Victoria placed a calming hand over Diego's for a moment and watched the man closely. A muscle in his jaw flexed.

"Christmas is a very busy time. Everyone gets a little excited, Alcalde. We didn't mean anything by it," Victoria said carefully. "Did we, Diego?" She stared hard at him.

"I was going to invite you as well, Victoria," he whispered as he glanced away. "Yes, indeed, Alcalde. No offense intended…" He added over his shoulder, as an afterthought, prompted by the continued stare.

"You were going to invite me? Thank you Diego, but I was hoping to have other plans…"

"You've invited Zorro?"

"Not yet," she said with a blush. "Perhaps I'll get my Christmas wish this year and he will unmask. Anything is possible at Christmas time."

"I hope he manages to come…"

"The man behind the mask may have other commitments, you mean?" Victoria whispered. "Maybe, but he'll come….I'm sure he will."

"Don't make it the tavern then. Plan to meet him somewhere else. The alcalde will be watching for Zorro. This will be his first searching place…"

"That is very clever, Diego. Thank you."

"What are friends for? Just be careful…"

Diego glanced at the alcalde who was glancing their way with a slight interest. He was sure De Soto could not hear their whispered conversation, but he was edgy just the same.

Zzz

The alcalde approached his office with slow, unmotivated steps. Christmas Eve, he realised crossly. What was the point of celebrating out here in the dust? Madrid, he could almost understand, but in the dust and the heat?

His body was warm with wine, and good food. The tavern had a way of nourishing everything but your soul, he thought as he reached the porch. His mind was full of cold memories, and his heart full of ice.

His plans to ban Christmas trees or at least prevent their transport into town had been an extraordinary failure, even in his history of failure. Zorro had taken exception to the idea, as of course he would, and every move in that direction had been sternly dealt with. It had gotten so intense he couldn't even pay people to work for him at the moment. He was restricted to the men of his command, and they were hopeless fools at the best of times.

At least he had won on the guest front. People could hardly celebrate the same way in their own immediate families, and most didn't have extended family in the territory. No enormous stupid dinners of good cheer and false camaraderie. At least that was something.

His hand went to push the door open, and a hazy image appeared before his eyes. A youngish man with a brown moustache and goatee. The disembodied face sneered at him for a moment and disappeared. He shook his head slowly, putting the illusion down to just a little too much wine.

He had paperwork to do, and Christmas was not going to get in the way. He grabbed a pile of letters and documents to reject and stamp, and got into a determined rhythm. If he stopped to think he would be in a mess, so he didn't stop. It soon got automatic, and he was soon fighting the yawns.


	4. Chapter 4

There was a short sharp bang, which jolted Ignacio de Soto from his doze. He blinked, and glanced around the room carefully. The wind had risen and the door hadn't been shut properly. One of the shutters at the window were banging as well. He noticed the candle had nearly burnt out, and sighed. Crossing over to secure the door properly, and close the shutters, he shivered, although it wasn't all that cold in the room.

As he turned back to his desk, he saw it. A pale, washed out figure of a man, slightly shorter than himself stood in the middle of the room, contemplating him with a sneer on his face.

"So, you are my replacement," he said, his voice raspy and thin. "Not much to look at, are you?"

"What?"

"Allow me to introduce myself," the stranger said, with a courtly bow. "Louis Ramone, Alcalde of Los Angeles…."

"Don't be ridiculous," Ignacio murmured. "Ramone was killed…" Reality dawned slowly. "How did you get in?"

"You really should lock the skylight," Ramone said with interest, staring up at the window in the roof, ignoring the question for the moment. "It's amazing how many times Zorro visited me that way…"

"We did, he picked the lock," De Soto said briskly. "You are a ghost?"

"Yes. Apparently so." De Soto peered at the man, and to his horror he was see through. He had expected him to be part of elaborate scheme of someone's to get back at him for vandalising Christmas. A fake wasn't usually that well done.

"Why? Why are you here?"

"Why?" Ramone shrugged. "Not my choice, of course. You can blunder around like an idiot forever if you want. Not hurting me. Someone thinks you need to shown a lesson, given a second chance. You do know where you are heading, don't you, Ignacio?" The ghost responded with an evil grin. "Not my place to argue with powers that be…especially at this time of year."

"What do you mean?" Ignacio was trying to remember if the ghost had actually said anything sensible. "A lesson? A second chance?"

"You're to be visited. Three more ghosts. You are to be given the treatment, Alcalde. Not pleasant by all accounts. Expect the first one in one hour," Ramone whispered, as he faded from sight.

Ignacio rubbed his eyes and blinked. His office was undisturbed and peaceful. He dismissed the ghost as part of a vague dream, shaking his head. He shivered a little, and set a small fire in the grate.

Zzz

Ignacio went to bed eventually, giving up on the paperwork reluctantly. His mind was cluttered and racing with ideas and plans for the next day. Zorro would not be able to resist visiting Victoria. If he organised a clever enough plan he would have him this time. Ignacio had trained at the University of Madrid under a scholarship, one of the best military minds of his day. At least one of his tutors had reluctantly admitted it to him. His fencing skills were top notch when he had left Spain. Obviously Zorro was a prodigy as well. Possibly another scholarship student. Just slightly better than him with a skill honed sharper by the threat of death.

He tossed and turned in his bed. He would have to get another mattress soon. He liked comfort, and a soft mattress was necessary to have a quality sleep.

A thundering boom of thunder clapped overhead, startling the alcalde. There had been no threat of a storm. Fog poured into the room, coloured a soft golden hue, and he hurriedly got out of bed. Was there room to retreat?

"Ignacio, why are you trying to hide? You were warned about me," a soft child's voice chided him. "This is no time to be a coward."

"What? Who are you?"

"The Ghost of Christmas Past," the child said, bowing a little. "We are going on a journey…"

"Where?"

"Madrid, about three decades into the past, give or take…"

Ignacio felt tiny fingers clasp his hand, and he tried to remove himself. He found to his horror he had no choice. He was stuck.

The world began to spin and whirl and the golden hue surrounded them both.


	5. Chapter 5

The streets of Madrid were busy. Well dressed men and women bustled around, in warm coats and boots and mittens. One man walking quickly, unfortunately walked straight through Ignacio as if he wasn't there at all.

Ignacio shivered at the strangeness of the sensation, and stared at the bustle around him.

"We're in completely the wrong place," the child complained to itself. Ignacio glanced at it. 'It' was a good term, because he couldn't tell if it was a girl or a boy. It sounded like a girl in the way it was pouting with annoyance and completing ignoring his feelings.

"We're going to miss it."

"I thought you were the Ghost of Christmas Past? Surely you know your way around?"

The child turned to him, and the big innocent eyes glowed a fiery red. He backed up a little, his hand still glued to the child's.

"I apologise for any offense," he murmured quickly.

"Ah, yes, there we are. Just a small adjustment," the Ghost prattled to itself. Ignacio gave a sigh of relief. He/she/it was happy enough not to take the offense too seriously. The eyes had reverted back to the soft baby blue, and it felt as if the danger had passed.

The fog swirled and eddied around them again, and almost immediately, Ignacio found himself in a very familiar location.

"This is the city of Cadiz," he murmured, turning around slowly. "Why have we come here?"

"We want to revisit your life, discover why you are who you are. Come now, don't dawdle."

The buildings were less dirty than he remembered. The streets were less cluttered with the destitute families driven there by famine and bad harvests.

"Where are we going?"

"Where were you born?"

"In my grandfather's home…in Cadiz."

He blinked and was gaping in a warmish room with fading wallpaper. The house and owners had once been grand, and handsome. The wealth had diminished, but the pride on the old man's face had not. Stubborn, nasty pride.

The scream of a woman in labour split the silence, and the old man glanced up with a scowl. Then the answering scream of a newborn made the man throw something across the room with anger.

"Why?"

"Your grandfather never liked you." It was a statement, not a question.

"My father died before I was born," he explained.

"No, he didn't."

Ignacio paled a little, and watched the older man. He stormed up the stairs with what seemed to be blood thirsty intent, and Ignacio chased after him.

His grandfather snatched him from his mother, and crossed over to the window determinedly. Ignacio had a shiver go through him. Obviously the man was going to throw the infant out of the window. He reached out a hand and tried to stop his arm, but he flailed a little. His hand merely passed through the other man's arm.

"No, don't do it," he whispered. Something so evil. Such an innocent child.

"Father!" There was a shout of a familiar sounding man, and Ignacio turned, backing off. His uncle.

"Give me the child," he said firmly. "Now."

The older man paused, and actually glanced down at the tiny child in his arms.

"Father, my baby…"

"Your bastard child…"

"Give me the child," Ignacio's uncle insisted. He grabbed his arm, and grabbed for the baby with the other. Ignacio watched as his uncle scooped him close to his heart, and the old man turned aside, defeated.

"I don't accept it. It is not my grandchild," the old man snarled, as he left the room.

"Stefan, is it a girl or a boy?"

Stefan smiled grimly, and investigated. "A fine little man, sister. Such inquisitive little eyes he has. Sparkling with light." He handed the baby boy back to his mother gently, and she examined him gently.

"He's a treasure, Stefan. He's glowing," his mother said. "Glowing with intelligence, curiosity, already? Is it possible?"

"Ignacio?"

She smiled. "Like a flame? Ignacio…do you like that name, my little one?"

Zzz

Ignacio was drawn out of the house with the Ghost.

"Will the baby be safe?"

"The baby is you, Ignacio. Were you safe?"

Ignacio paused and thought. So many memories that he'd rather forget, so many struggles and problems and heart ache. First the stern, impossible to please figure of his grandfather, then the stern, firm hand of a stepfather. He shivered. His only benefactors had been his mother and his uncle, and they were not always present to prevent certain punishments.


	6. Chapter 6

Several years passed in a whirlwind of gold, and Ignacio could only blink. Several images of him toddling, being reprimanded, being punished flashed before him in a haze.

It all stopped for a moment. Eerie silence filled the house in Cadiz. His mother was holding a boy's hand, and dressed in black she was guided down the stairs by his uncle.

"It is for the best, Bianca. You'll see. Henri is a man of integrity and of upright reputation. He will support you and the child."

Ignacio wanted to shout at his uncle. Henri was a waste of space, and a violent man. He had just hidden it well. He had married his mother for her family name, and had never let them forget they were charity castoffs. Without him they would have lived on the streets. The streets would have been safer.

The child Ignacio stared blankly at his uncle, and clutched his mother's hand more tightly.

"Can't we live with you, Uncle Tomas?"

Tomas glanced down at him as if only just remembering he was there. A careless hand ruffled his hair, and he was otherwise ignored again.

The tall man strode through the door, and the child Ignacio shivered to look at him. Henri sneered as he glanced at the little boy and away.

"Let go of the boy, Bianca. You pander to his weaknesses too much. He needs to grow up."

"He's only five," Tomas interjected.

"What business is it of yours Tomas?" Henri said icily. "The boy is baggage and they are lucky I valued your father enough to take his daughter and her bastard. The quicker the child grows up, the better. Unless, of course, you'd care to take him off my hands?"

Tomas stared at the floor with embarrassment, and Henri smiled nastily. "Of course not. Ignacio is baggage."

"He is my son," Bianca said softly.

"If you start back answering me, my dear, you will soon see the back of my h and. Even your dear brother cannot stand between husband and wife."

"Ignacio," Tomas said softly. He bent to the boy's level, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Be a good boy and listen to your father." Ignacio nodded silently.

The adult Ignacio stared at the man he had adored and knew him to be a coward. He had never seen that in Tomas before, but indeed he was a coward. He had left them, abandoned them to their fate.

"Ignacio will be sent to boarding school as soon as term starts, Tomas. At least that will be a blessing for all concerned."

Bianca opened and closed her mouth, and glanced at the floor. She nodded slowly, and bit her lip so hard blood had come to the surface.

"No more hugs from you, Bianca. You would do well to know your place. You will have other children soon enough." Henri had noticed her discomfort, and had forestalled an impulse to hold her son close. "He is far too old for such things. You spoil him."

Zzz

The years flew by again, and the flashes were slower.

"We have much to cover," the Ghost said in an effort to explain.

Images of him hard at work at his desk, sweating in the fencing yard with wooden swords, sleeping on rock hard beds, learning military strategy and technique until it poured into his dreams. Sometimes he dreamt he was a Spartan soldier, he certainly felt deprived and hard enough.

The Greek master's daughter was his only friend. Only real friend. She'd slip away from her own lessons and tutors and come and play with him in the woods. The weekends when everyone went home to their warm families and left him behind, she would always arrive to cheer him up.

What was her name again? Apollina? Something Greek after her dead mother. She could climb trees faster and higher than he could for the first couple of years. He took it as a challenge and practiced until he was the faster, and the stronger. She was the braver one for a few years, as he struggled to understand his life. Then he took charge over himself, in his mind, and he became more dominant.

The swirling golden hues spun again, and he was 12. Henri stood before him with his snarling face, but this time he knew no fear, and was strong and sure. He also knew his place.

"Well, Ignacio. I was coming to take you to your apprenticeship in my friend's carpentry yard, but I am informed that someone has offered you a scholarship…"

"I'm sorry, Father."

"Sorry?"

"I have offended you in some way," Ignacio said. The adult Ignacio flinched a little. Didn't he know how he sounded? He sounded so belligerent and rude. He certainly deserved what happened next.

The back handed slap was unexpected for the young boy.

"You are taking the scholarship. I am leaving. You will not see me or your mother again, or our children again. Do I make myself clear? You are a man now, Ignacio."

Henri turned on his heel and left the school. The adult Ignacio sighed. His twelve year old self had a tear running down his face for a moment, before he stiffened and nodded. He held himself straighter and marched himself back to his dormitory.

The adult Ignacio glanced at the Ghost. "I became a man that day. It was a good thing. I needed to be a man."

"It was unavoidable," the Ghost nodded.

The swirl of gold interrupted again, and he was standing watching himself as a teenager. Apollina was standing by the frozen lake, watching the ice skaters. The adult Ignacio admired her elegant natural beauty with fondness.

"Remember when we used to do that?"

"We were children, Apollina. We are adults now. It's foolishness."

"I want to marry you."

"We are engaged…."

"Why won't you agree on a date for the wedding? We must get married soon…I love you so much."

"You must learn to be patient, my love. I am going to University in Madrid. The scholarship will support me but not you as well. I need to make a name for myself, to prove that I can be a man worthy of you. I will get a lush posting somewhere and we will marry then."

"It will take years," Apollina said softly.

"If you love me, you will wait for me."

"If you love me, you will marry me."

They looked at each other carefully.

The adult Ignacio sighed, and looked away. Don't do it. Don't say it. You will regret it for the rest of your life.

"I can't wait," Apollina said softly. She turned away from him, slowly making her way back to the school. The adult Ignacio followed her, but the teenager growled and turned his face towards the wind.

"So be it…" He shouted above the wind.

"Apollina, I'm just being stupid. Stubborn….I…he…I don't mean to turn away. I'm a fool….wait….don't walk away," the adult Ignacio said, stepping in front of her. She strode determinedly through his ghostly image, hurt pride forming tears in her eyes.

That was the day his heart was broken again. He never looked back, he never forgave her for walking away. He wondered where she was now.


	7. Chapter 7

The next stop was at University. A much younger Diego de la Vega was laughing with his friends in the corridors. The younger man noticed Ignacio and smiled.

The adult Ignacio realised the smile was completely genuine. Diego never smiled that way anymore, but that day he was reaching out.

"Ignacio, come along with us. Christmas at the dormitory. Relax a little."

One of his friends frowned. The younger Ignacio scowled a little in return.

"_I_ have studies to do, Don Diego," Ignacio said coldly, and walked away.

The ghostlike form of Ignacio stared as Diego looked a little crest fallen, as if he respected him and genuinely regretted his absence.

"Why do you always concern yourself with the man, Diego? He's such a grouch. He'll destroy the feeling in the room."

"He's lonely. Why should anyone be lonely on Christmas day?" Diego said. "Really Ricardo, I can't understand your lack of compassion."

"You, my friend, have far too much."

Diego smiled a little, but his eyes followed the stiff Ignacio as he walked down the corridor.

"Is that Don Diego de la Vega?"

"You know it is," he replied sharply. "He was always trying to make me a charity case. I showed him. I am twice the swordsman he is."

"Of course," the Ghost said. "Why didn't you go to the party? It was Christmas day."

"Don't you remember? All those horrible memories were on Christmas Day. Why would I want to court any further disasters?"

"Your birthday is late December," the Ghost prompted.

"Yes, the very first disaster of all. I don't celebrate it. No one does."

"Perhaps they would if they knew when it was," the Ghost said softly. "My time is almost up. One more trip."

"I'd rather not…"

The blur of gold made him realise that the Ghost was not in the least interested in what he thought.

Zzz

It was humid and the younger Ignacio was sweating. He looked frazzled and torn. He had led his men a great distance. If they could hold the line, perhaps they could retreat further back into safety after a while. They were greatly outnumbered.

"Sergeant!" It was his commandant. Tough and stern, like all the others in his past. "Get those men back out there! The battle is out there!"

"The men are exhausted. Most are wounded. They are cannon fodder."

"Yes. We are a distraction for the main attack. While the enemy is attacking us, the other squadron will circle behind."

"We're a decoy?"

"Are you questioning orders, Sergeant? Get those men back out there…"

Ignacio glared after him, both the younger and the invisible older. He had felt like a murderer, and perhaps he was. He had survived because basically he had been clipped by a bullet to the shoulder and he retreated into a small cave. Emerging after the battle, he had been branded a coward, a label which had stuck for a fair few years – keeping him at the post of sergeant for five years.

"My heart was cold then, and it just got colder. It was Christmas Day once more, and blood and death was all it brought me. I loved those men as brothers. My mistake."

"Why is it a mistake to love?"

"Because your heart is crushed so easily, and someone is always wanting to do it. I don't think my heart is capable of tender feelings any more. I will never marry. I live for myself, and what I want I fight for. I want to have prestige and power. I want to be respected. I want to be feared, as I feared all the others in my past. I am feared."


	8. Chapter 8

Ignacio stumbled back to his desk, amazed that he felt so drained and exhausted. What a strange dream, he thought. Whatever the Ghost of Christmas Past had been, it was now gone, and he was alone.

He rubbed his face vigorously with his hands. Disgusted at the tell-tale moisture on his cheeks, he lashed out at the papers on his desk. All the papers ended up on the floor.

"Temper, temper," a contemplative voice said from the rafters. Not so alone, Ignacio realised with annoyance. "What's wrong?"

"Go away," Ignacio growled. "For the sake of peace and quiet – leave…"

"What? No lancers? Are you ill?" The man in black responded with interest. "I came to discuss the law you chose to enact, restricting freedom of movement in the pueblo…"

"Lancers!" His shout was half hearted, too soft to wake any of his lazy guards. It was enough for Zorro to take him seriously though.

"I'm going, I'm going." Zorro's voice was soft, almost gentle. "I want you to reconsider. I will be back…"

Ignacio finally glanced up at the man perched birdlike on the rafters above his head. "I will be ready and waiting. You're lucky…"

"No challenge?" Zorro asked curiously. He eyed the sword hanging near the desk. Ignacio could have grasped the hilt at any time.

Ignacio sighed. "Hardly going to force a fight in a night shirt, Zorro…"

"Can't imagine that stopping you," Zorro responded.

Ignacio strode quickly through the room, and slammed the door as he left the room. His private quarters seemed empty and cold, but he'd rather that than the mocking taunts of his enemy.

"What's wrong with him?" Zorro murmured, before easing his way out through the roof.

Zzz

Laughing woke Ignacio a little later. He stumbled out of bed and crossed over to the door of his office.

It didn't sound like Zorro's laugh. The man hardly laughed at all. He'd heard the laugh only twice in the few years of his term of office. Zorro's laugh was soft and guarded.

This was a deep throated belly laugh. It frightened him a little with its intensity. He paused, wondering whether he should go and greet whoever it was.

"For a despot, you're a timid fellow," a cheerful voice bellowed. "Come and know me better, friend."

The door swung open of its own accord, and Ignacio tripped into the room. He had been placing too much weight on the door, despite himself.

A bearded giant of a man seemed to take up the whole room. The gentleman sat on his desk and smiled at Ignacio.

"What a mess!? Ignacio, Ignacio, Ignacio. What are we to do with you, boy?"

"The papers will be dealt with," Ignacio grumbled, deliberately misinterpreting the comment. "I'm not a child to be scolded."

"Then cease acting as one," the giant replied. A hint of menace flavoured his words, and Ignacio glanced up with slight alarm.

The man clicked his fingers and the papers drifted into a neat pile on Ignacio's desk. He clapped his hands smartly. A tall pine tree appeared, covered in finely crafted ornaments and dripping with golden tinsel. A sight worthy of a royal court, Ignacio mused, slightly nauseous. A mountain of present appeared, as well as a table laden with all kinds of good food and fine wine.

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Present," the giant announced.


	9. Chapter 9

It was Christmas Day in the pueblo, and to Ignacio's satisfaction all was quiet in the streets as the Ghost lead him around the town. The Ghost shook his head at him, making his touselled hair dance. The frown on the giant's face was a little daunting, but Ignacio couldn't hide a little smirk.

"Funny, is it?"

"Christmas is altogether over celebrated anyway," Ignacio said. "People should be at church. Do you know the Puritans in America banned it altogether. It was too disorganised and got in the way of honest work. Taxation keeps the people in line, and without work, how can they pay taxes?"

"How indeed? You always manage to get them to pay," the Ghost muttered. "You're so ill spirited you managed to lock up Father Christmas himself the other year."

"That man was a fraud and a fake. It's not my fault the gullible of the pueblo were fooled."

"You're a hard man to deal with Alcalde."

"Where are we going? There has to be some sort of point to this," Ignacio reasoned.

"The tavern."

"It's closed."

"Yes, but we are still going." The Ghost led him straight through a wall, and into the kitchen.

Victoria had decorated as much as she could in the room, and a fire was burning in the hearth. He had expected her to at least be a little downcast, but she was pottering around with her cooking utensils, and mixing things in bowls.

"What's she doing? She has no customers until the new year. That's how long the ban is."

"She seems grateful for your present. The poor girl hasn't had a holiday in years."

Ignacio stared at the Ghost and then at the cheerful woman. "That's….that's not what I meant."

"Nevertheless, some have the happy ability to transform evil into good. I wonder what she is making?" The Ghost floated over to inspect her busyness from over her shoulder.

"Oh, yes," he murmured. "Simple Christmas cookies. Well, well, what a feast she has made. She must have been up all night…"

Cold ham, bread rolls, steaming soup were just some of the treats in the kitchen.

"Cooking ahead of time?"

"Planning for a special someone, I believe. This is only enough for two people."

"A special someone? Zorro?"

"I suppose so. Although there might be another she would invite if you'd only increase the guest limit."

"The guest limit is two." Ignacio glanced around with interest. "Where is he?"

"I suppose three is a crowd in these matters," the Ghost was mumbling to himself.

"I have soldiers waiting to capture him, it will be the best Christmas ever."

"Ignacio?"

"What?"

"Did you see any soldiers?"

"No….the damn fools! Where are they?"

"I wouldn't be too harsh with them. Zorro does have a way of getting what he wants when he chooses."

"Zorro?"

"A simple matter of drugging the soldiers."

Ignacio huffed a little, and subsequently missed the dramatic entrance of the man in black.

"Would you just look at them?" The Ghost sighed. "One of these Christmases…oh well…"

Ignacio stared in disbelief at the couple. Where had he sprung from? Victoria was in his arms, and they were passionately kissing.

"What a pity my men are so stupid! He is a sitting duck," Ignacio fumed.

"Querida," Zorro breathed, breaking off the kiss with a heavy sigh. "You've been cooking?"

"Stay with me, stay for lunch…"

"I…I can't, querida. I…have other….commitments."

"Oh."

"My father expects me."

"Oh, I see." Her face brightened a little. "Stay for some ham and eggs. At least, every man needs a hearty breakfast."

"Of course. Coffee would be nice." He sat on one of the chairs at the table.

"Coffee? Oh yes, of course." She hurried to pour him a mug.

"I went to midnight mass. You looked quite lovely, I thought," Zorro said, and took a careful sip of the steaming drink.

She blushed. "That's not what midnight mass is for, Zorro."

"It's an added incentive, I find."

"You sat with your father," she said softly. "Where were you sitting?"

Zorro took another careful sip, and Ignacio noticed his eyes sparkle with playfulness. A similar playfulness came over him while fencing. He knew Zorro would give her a riddle to keep her guessing.

"Somewhere I could see you to an advantage," he murmured.

She laughed a little, and patted his shoulder.

"I suppose you should hurry. The alcalde and his men will be here any moment, I'm sure."

"Not this morning. The barracks are full of heavily sleeping soldiers, and the doors are firmly locked. I wanted some time with you, Querida. We never seem to have time."

"No, we never do," she sighed. "What about your parents? Won't they worry?"

"I lie in regularly."

"In more ways than one, I suppose. Do they know who you are?"

"No one does," Zorro said with a frown. "I thought we promised to not talk about my identity."

"I never promised, not exactly."

"Well, for Christmas, can we just relax about it?"

"Yes, of course," she said with a slight nod. "I have a present for you."

"A hearty breakfast and a present? Victoria, there's no need…"

"And you haven't brought me one?"

Ignacio watched as the man grew slightly uncomfortable and he smirked at him. Silly fool, bewitched by a mere tavern keeper.

She handed him a wrapped gift and waited for him to unwrap it.

"It's very soft," he murmured. He held the black scarf up to examine it. "It would have taken a long time to make."

"Wear it when you ride at night," she said. "I worry."

He smiled gently. "It's beautiful," he said, and leaned over to kiss her softly. He reached into a bag Ignacio hadn't noticed before.

"This is a tonic I made for you. It will help you not get sick."

"Thank you."

"This is a rose water that I made with the roses that you love…. And this is something I found in Monterey," he said with a grin. She took the red shawl and put it to her cheek. "I must confess, I didn't make it."

"I suppose you can't do everything," she said reluctantly.

"No, I am just a man after all."

She paused a little, and Zorro flinched, turning his attention back to his coffee. Ignacio was sure he missed some sort of clue because Zorro seemed very agitated and Victoria seemed a little lost.

"What's going on?"

"It's a little game he plays," the Ghost said with a grin. "Come now, let's leave them in peace."

"I want to stay," Ignacio said with interest. Perhaps he could learn something incriminating about the man, and then he could arrest the man without the mask on his face. That would be something.

"It's not about you, Ignacio," the Ghost said with a slight growl. "You see, they can have their love and their celebration with or without your stupid laws. Nothing stops love and friendship. The harshest treatment merely encourages it more. Not even the most powerful tyrant can stop love."


	10. Chapter 10

The scene changed abruptly, and Ignacio found himself in the de la Vega library. A roaring fire filled the hearth, and Alejandro was pacing up and down.

"Will the boy sleep all day?"

Felipe shrugged at the man he considered a grandfather. Ignacio snorted.

"Diego is so lazy."

"Yes, perhaps. He seems to busy himself with the pueblo. Think of the newspaper, and the peons he teaches to read. The farmers he supports, the Indians and their copper mine."

"It's not my business who the man decides to support. If that exhausts him, perhaps he needs to reconsider his priorities."

The giant sniffed a little. "Not exactly lazy…"

"He shouldn't neglect his personal duties."

The giant guided the alcalde through the hallway, and they saw Diego emerge from his room. The young caballero was simply but stylishly dressed. Ignacio was impressed despite himself.

"That man could lead fashion if he had a mind for it."

"There you are, Diego, finally," Alejandro said with a sigh. He inspected his son from a slight distance, and nodded briefly. "Very well done. I didn't realise it took half a day…"

Diego smiled, and chuckled softly. He reached over and hugged his father briefly. "Merry Christmas to you too, Father."

Felipe allowed himself to be hugged briefly before dancing away like any other teenage boy would. Alejandro gave his son a reluctant grin, and laughed as well.

"Sorry I took so long. I went out this morning," Diego said softly.

"What?"

"I had to try…De Soto. I thought I could change his mind, appeal to his better nature," Diego said with a shrug. "No luck. I even asked him here."

"Diego! Surely you didn't? What if he had accepted?!"

"Father, one day a year we can extend some sort of compassion to the man. Surely, Christian charity would extend to the alcalde?"

"You and your Christian charity would have doomed us to a cheerless Christmas."

Ignacio considered the man quizzically. Was he actually defending his right to celebrate with others? What was Diego up to?

"Diego has a kind heart," the Ghost murmured. "Naïve at times, mind you, but kind."

"He's still an idiot."

Mendoza was welcomed as he walked through to them.

"Let's go straight in to lunch," Alejandro said, with a smile and a wink at Diego. Diego placed a hand on Mendoza's shoulder.

"I managed to find some of those beans that you love so much, Mendoza," Diego said with happiness.

"The man is generous in spirit," the Ghost said softly. "He prefers to give, and give without thought to cost to himself."

"It helps to be among the wealthiest men in the territories."

The men ate heartily. All sorts of wonderful food covered the table. The de la Vegas ate moderately, and finished with fruit and cheese. Mendoza ate to his heart's desire, after a little encouragement.

"Thank you, Don Diego."

"Nonsense, you're almost family. Especially at this time of year," Alejandro said cheerfully. Diego smiled, and moved them all into the library with a little more excitement than Ignacio would have expected.

"I have been practicing for weeks," Diego said. He sat at the piano and began to play. Several favourites made the others smile, and Diego encouraged them to sing.

"Childishness…"

"Christmas cheer," the Ghost replied.

"This is a new song from the Continent," Diego said thoughtfully. His eyes grew serious. Did he miss someone in particular, that he had left behind in Madrid? Ignacio could name the expression in his eyes, but didn't understand. Heart ache.

"It's called Silent Night, and it's best played on the guitar," Diego said. "I have found, anyway, with experimenting…"

"You and your experiments, Diego," Alejandro said, good-naturedly. Diego smiled at him, taking it as a joke.

They listened in silence as Diego picked out the tune gently, and sang softly. He stared at the guitar as he finished, and seemed to freeze a little. Then he shook himself and forced himself to look up. A single tear had traced its way down his cheek, but he forced himself to smile.

"Wow, a little too emotionally powerful."

"Diego is too sensitive," Ignacio scoffed, but the others nodded and allowed him to wipe the tear without comment.

"Better than insensitive," the Ghost said thoughtfully.


	11. Chapter 11

**Warning: this is my angsty one, which I'm of two minds about but the Ghost of Christmas Future was always going to be horrible. People die...**

Ignacio found himself once more in his bedroom. He stared at the Ghost.

"You're trying to force Christmas down my throat. I was greatly entertained by the stupidity of others, but really…I am not going to change."

"Perhaps," the ghost said softly. "I thought I saw a smile once or twice."

Ignacio flushed a little. "Never."

"And perhaps, just perhaps, you joined in with some of the songs," the Ghost said with a sudden smile.

"I didn't!"

"Well, humming does count, as does toe tapping or whatever you did." The Ghost stared deep into his eyes, and sighed. "And that tiny spark of compassion and the smidgen of mutual respect in your heart….well, not quite enough, I'm afraid."

"What do you mean?"

"My brother does tend to upset people, but most of the time, he tends to do the trick," the Ghost said softly. "I'm sorry, Ignacio, I'm so so sorry."

"Why? Neither of you were very impressive, as far as ghosts go," Ignacio said with derision. "I was never truly afraid."

"That was not our aim, Ignacio. The Ghost of Christmas Future doesn't aim to frighten either. He shows what will come to pass if you don't change. The future you will cause with your insensitive, harsh treatment, stupid laws, and insipid kowtowing to corrupt authority."

"What? Do you know what it will be?"

"Yes," the Ghost said. "Heaven help you, Ignacio. Maybe you need to respect the real Authority in the universe."

The Ghost started to fade out of sight. "Prepare for my brother. One hour."

Zzz

A rumble of thunder woke him, and he shuddered. It was all just a dream after all. That was before he turned and saw the figure in the monks outfit.

"Zorro?" Ignacio said with slight alarm. The figure shook his head slowly, and pointed. The room vanished and Ignacio felt the chill of fear filter through him.

He was back in the de la Vega hacienda. It felt cold and empty, like the heart and soul had left the building.

Alejandro was banging on a bedroom door. A finely dressed lady stood by his side, an infant in her arms.

"Diego! Your wife wants to see you! Your son's first Christmas! Get out here!"

"Alejandro, please," the lady murmured. Her child seemed used to the noise, and didn't scream as a normal child would, so close to such thundering rage.

A wife? Diego had finally married. She was a beauty, Ignacio noticed. The child was healthy and strong.

"We need to leave him alone. It's only one day."

"It's Christmas Day," Alejandro said softly. "We all know what he went through. We try to understand."

"Alejandro. It's only been a year. He's come a long way in just a year."

"Yes," Alejandro murmured. He glanced at the locked door, and sighed. "Diego, I love you. Let me in, let me understand."

"We'll go to the tavern, Alejandro," the lady said softly. Her eyes flickered to the door, eyes filled with mild interest, and compassion, but love was not there.

"What happened?" Ignacio asked, turning to the Ghost. The Ghost didn't speak.

Zzz

A vision crossed through his mind, terrible and confronting.

Diego and Victoria had been abducted coming back from church on a bright Christmas Day. It had been a plan Ignacio had hatched with a bandit leader. Things had spiralled out of control so quickly, and so irretrievably. Zorro had not been trapped, they had not caught him. The bandits had taken it into their heads that Victoria had known how to contact Zorro.

Alejandro had found his son tied firmly to the bars of a rough cell in a cave. He had been the helpless witness to the brutal assault of the woman. The woman that everyone was surprised to learn he was overwhelmingly in love with. She had been thrown into the cell half alive, and Diego had ripped the skin on his wrists to shreds to try to free himself. She had died, curled up beside him, and he had given up.

When his father untied him, he had gathered her to himself, shaken her, pleaded with her, and begged her to talk to him. He wouldn't understand she was dead. He wouldn't accept it for days. They couldn't move him, whatever the madness was it made him strong.

In the end, Alejandro treated the woman as if she was alive, for the sake of his son. It had been the only way to get Diego out of the cave they had been abandoned in. He hadn't eaten for days, and although they had been given water, it hadn't really been enough. Alejandro had lived in fear for a week, as he watched his son refuse plate after plate, his body wasting away before his eyes.

It had been Felipe who had made his father eat. He had coaxed and gestured and shoved food at him until he focused on the teenager. First broth, then more substantial food entered his body, and Diego grew stronger again.

His first coherent sentence was to announce he was going to marry. When asked who he planned to marry, he threw his hands in the air, and shrugged. Alejandro's alarm had never ceased. Diego's eyes were dead, he decided.

"Who cares who I marry? The woman I love is dead." The words that came out of his mouth were expressionless, making them all the more chilling. "You choose."

The marriage was arranged. The senorita was kind, and intelligent and beautiful. A woman Diego would have cherished, but basically ignored. A baby was born, and Diego had locked the communicating door, both to his bedroom and his heart. He treated his wife with kind politeness, a gentleness due to her station, but they were not friends. She grew to accept it, to expect it.

Zzz

Ignacio's mind reeled with the story. He was to blame for this tragedy? Of course he was.

The ghost led him back to the tavern. The place was deserted. Where was everyone?

"It was so much better in the old days," Mendoza was moaning in his corner. "Senorita Escalante's pollo was to die for. Tamales, steaming from the pan, those were the days."

Ignacio spun on his heels. There were some dons in their normal corner, but the peons and the poorer people were missing.

"Where is everyone?"

Another vision. Farmers with the failed crops had been forced to give up. Diego had given up on helping them. Indians had been exploited, clever con men had snatched the copper mine. The poorest of the poor had simply died of illness, famine and violence.

Violence? Where was Zorro? Had he finally arrested him?

"It was so much easier when Zorro was alive," Mendoza continued. "The poor man dived off the nearest cliff when he discovered Victoria had died. They found his clothes ripped to shred on the beach. Understandable, but so inconvenient. He could apprehend bandits in one night. It takes us five weeks at least." The other soldiers nodded, although they must have heard the story many times.

Zorro was dead? By his own hand? The man behind the mask as well?

The doors shut to keep the frozen air out of the tavern swung back with a sudden bang.

The man who stood there was completely unrecognisable. Alejandro stood and frowned.

"Diego!"

"Not now, Father."

Ignacio blinked rapidly. Diego was a madman - that was all he could think of. The stylish man was gone, probably a long time ago. The neat moustache was now a raggedy beard, his neatly cut hair was scruffy and wild. His hands were rough now, not smooth and well-manicured as they had been in the past. This was no scholar, this was a dangerous man. As if to prove the point, Diego raised the two pistols he held.

"Put the guns down," his wife said softly. "Think of the children in here, Diego."

Ignacio caught sight of himself, the Alcalde, frozen mid smirk. Diego had met the Alcalde's eyes, and Ignacio could feel the danger, even though he was standing with the Ghost of Christmas Future safely in the opposite corner. Diego, think of the children in here, Ignacio thought.

"The children had best leave then, Katherine. I am going to do what someone should have done long ago. Get everyone out," Diego said, briefly glancing her way.

The Alcalde and his table began to scramble for the doors, along with everyone else.

"Not you, Alcalde," Diego murmured. "Father, get Felipe out of here. He shouldn't see this."

Felipe broke away from Alejandro, and tried to pull on Diego's arm. Diego wheeled around and knocked him out with a single blow, at the same time covering the Alcalde with one of the pistols.

"Diego," Alejandro said softly, kneeling at the teenager's side with horror.

"He'll be alright. He doesn't want to see this. I need to do this. You'll understand in time."

"If you kill me, Diego, you'll hang…" The Alcalde protested.

That was when Diego changed his stance. When they realised why he had both duelling pistols. He raised one to the side of his head, and pointed one towards the shaking Alcalde. Diego ignored the soldiers and the gentlemen and ladies that ran outside. No one stopped to help the Alcalde. Someone should have, Ignacio thought, standing with the ghost. Someone should have stopped Diego. Maybe his father, maybe his wife. Definitely Mendoza. Where was Mendoza? Mendoza would betray him?

Diego took three steps towards the Alcalde, and stopped.

"What can I say? What can I do?" The Alcalde begged, seeing the decision solidify in the other man's eyes.

"Bring her back," Diego breathed. "Bring her back so that I don't need to do this."

The Alcalde glanced at Alejandro with desperation.

"Diego, son, I love you. Don't do this. We can work through this. Your son is so young. This is his first Christmas…don't do this," Alejandro said softly. "Think of Katherine…"

The only answer was a sob.

Alejandro went around in front of his son. He glanced at the unconscious form of Felipe and braced himself. He'd answer a blow with a punch of his own, Ignacio could see it in his eyes.

"Diego…give me the guns…"

There was a bang, and within a few seconds another one echoed through the tavern. Alejandro managed to awkwardly catch his son as he fell.

Ignacio stared at the body in the corner. The shot had hit the Alcalde right between the eyes, he would have died instantly. Blood splattered the wall of the tavern behind where his future self had been sitting.

The sound of a man weeping was the only sound in the tavern. Alejandro was cradling the dead body of his son.


	12. Chapter 12

Ignacio stood in the tavern and watched Alejandro weep. He saw the teenager wake, and roll onto his side. Felipe watched with growing disbelief, like a private in the army when he had faced his first battle and comrades were laid out all over the battlefield like broken dolls.

"Alejandro," Ignacio said. "I'm sorry. I never meant…" And yet he had meant to cause pain and heart ache. Just not to that scale. It was amazing that a single man's despair and madness had destroyed the pueblo – but which man's? And when had it started? When Victoria Escalante had drawn her last breath, or when he arrived seeking Zorro?

The spirit of Christmas so alive in Diego had fizzled and died a violent death just as Diego had. Ignacio and his botched plans had killed him, and Ignacio himself.

Ignacio watched as Mendoza re-entered the tavern. He expected him to at least see if the Alcalde was dead, but he went across to Alejandro to see if there was anything he could do. When he couldn't get through to the older man, he glanced towards the cooling body of Alcalde De Soto and then away. Instead of going over, he called for Hernandez, and left the tavern.

Ignacio followed the sergeant slowly.

"They are both dead," Mendoza said with shock evident in his voice. "Both."

Katherine paled, and someone sat her down on an outside seat.

"Señora de la Vega," an older lady murmured. "Here let me take the child for you."

"No. Little Sebastian stays with me," Katherine protested weakly. She obviously needed to hold onto something. "Poor Diego…"

Poor Diego? He had just murdered the Alcalde of the pueblo. Didn't anyone care?

"Now what happens?" One of the dons said thoughtfully.

"I suppose I assume the post of Alcalde until such time as a replacement is instated."

"Mendoza, you are a wonderful man," one of the ladies said with a sigh. "However you are much more suited to running the tavern than the garrison."

Hernandez approached the tavern with caution.

"There's no danger, doctor. Diego's dead," Mendoza said sadly. "Don Alejandro may need some assistance however."

The older man nodded, and proceeded with more confidence.

"It's amazing what heart ache can do to a man's soul," one of the ladies said. "I myself had expected as much as soon as I heard what happened to Victoria. The man was so obviously in love, it was dangerous."

"I had a theory he was Zorro," another one prattled.

Katherine glanced at them with disgust. "My husband has only just died, and here you are gossiping. Of all the heartless creatures in this world…."

The baby screamed, and Katherine's voice broke into sobbing. It quietened the other ladies for a time, as they rushed to support her and her child.

No one cared that he was dead, Ignacio realised. He was just another carcass to be disposed of. No honour, no prestige awaited him posthumously. He had won no glory for himself. His end was on a tavern floor, shot for his inhumanity and other crimes. Zorro hadn't finished him, unless the woman was right. Zorro would have run him through with the sabre. Shooting him was direct and no nonsense, cold and calculated down to the last second. Death at the hands of Zorro would have left him something, at least at court.

He'd never go back to Madrid now. He couldn't even be buried there. It would be the dusty pueblo cemetery where he would be laid to rest, unless someone could find a reason why he shouldn't be buried on sacred ground.

Ignacio sighed. This was his end. Inglorious and dusty. Diego of all people killed him. Diego, the man who could celebrate Christmas under any conditions except what he had to face, and couldn't face. Christmas without his true love. Diego the man who had offered him a hand when no one else would. Who would make sure he had the choice, the option to celebrate Christmas with someone. Diego had turned against him. Turned against him as a symbol of oppression and corruption, blamed him for the death and destruction of his life.

Ignacio felt the shame and the despair. How could he not? His pueblo was in tatters. His dead body cooled with no one to mourn it. No one was even talking about him. He was a nonentity already.

The Ghost was considering him.

"Does this have to happen? Have I gone too far? Is there a way to pull back? If I don't arrange for Diego and Victoria to be kidnapped?"

The Ghost was silent. Ignacio thought some more. That wasn't just it. His laws were a little over the top. His treatment of the pueblo's residents was a little too harsh. If he really thought about it, Zorro only appeared to scold him or to discourage bandits. Maybe there was a way to declare a truce? Maybe he could snatch a little glory and honour back for himself. Maybe it wasn't too late.


	13. Chapter 13

Ignacio wandered as if in a dream, which perhaps, hopefully, he was. He stumbled through the pueblo, noting the rags on the peons and the careless way they carried themselves. Scrawny dogs scampered through the street, and nosed their way through piles of rubbish looking for scraps. The people were too tired, too worn to bother.

A small group of children scampered into the tavern and no one thought to shoo them away. Most scampered out again, but two brave little boys ventured in to peek at the bloodshed.

The bravest one led the other one out, and watched as his younger brother promptly threw up near the tethering post.

"I told you, Senor Diego shot the alcalde. Then he shot himself…"

One of the little girls gasped, and covered her mouth with her hand. All the children paled, and stared in horror towards the doors of the tavern.

"They're shocked but they don't seem that shocked," Ignacio said softly. The adults had felt no need to shelter the youngsters in any way. In his day they would all band together to protect the children of the town. These children were horrified but not terrified. Just another act of violence in their once peaceful pueblo.

Dust blew in over the outskirts, and pushed tumbleweeds through the street. Ignacio glanced towards the newspaper office. The sign swung in the breeze, needing a simple nail to fix it back to the board above it. No one had bothered. He made his way over to the building and peered in. A thick layer of dust covered everything, and it was doubtful that it had been used at all for a very long time. He examined the printing press. It needed oil, it was actually getting rusty from disuse.

"Did you hear the news? The alcalde is dead. Diego is dead."

"Good riddance," the other lady said. "Both of them were mad."

"I feel sorry for the de la Vegas, sorry for that boy. Diego never deserved what happened to him."

"Another man would have known his duty and got over it," the lady said harshly.

"Well, he always was a little fragile," her friend said, reluctantly.

"Fragile men end up doing these things."

Ignacio watched them go along their way and slowly shook his head. No one was greatly concerned, no shrieking ladies, no fainting fits. It was a fact of life in their town now. Every so often someone must do something like this, he realised. Bloodshed was part of everyday life.

The school building he had recently opened was now disused and falling down. All those children living in squalor in the streets should be in school, but he doubted that this was a special occasion. No one seemed to realise what day it was. In the past, people would be crying out Merry Christmas foolishly to one another, and frankly annoying Ignacio. The church seemed boarded up as well.

"Don't you wish Padre Benitez didn't have to come so far these days? Poor Alejandro," a finely dressed don said, as he and his wife walked past, the man nodding solemnly towards the tavern. "These things were so much simpler when this was a mission town."

"Times change," his wife said softly. "I want to move to Monterey. My sister is there. I would feel so much safer."

"So would I quite frankly. I'll see what can be done," her husband said with concern.

Ignacio glanced around him with increasing concern. What was wrong with all these people? It was Christmas! The church was not even a presence in their lives? No one seemed to have any spark, no glint of intelligence was in anyone's eyes. No spirit of interest, no hint of disgust even… Where was the disgust? It was a spirit of acceptance, of fate being their master, of surrender. He thought he would have loved it, but it terrified him. They didn't seem real.

Someone had to teach those children. Someone needed to shelter the children from the horrors that seemed normal. Someone had to help. Where were the helpers? Where was the dissent? The outcries that had been raised in protest were silent now. Boundaries had been crossed, ripped apart, torn down. It wasn't right.

"I did all this?" The question hung in the air, and the hooded Ghost turned his way. It nodded extremely slowly. "I did all this."

"What can I do? I have to do something," he murmured. "Let me fix this. There must be a way to fix this."

The hooded Ghost led him towards the cemetery, and Ignacio stumbled, falling head first into an empty grave – his grave. He was too late, there was nothing he could do. He and the town were doomed. He fell for what seemed like miles.

He woke with a gasp in his own bed, and stared hard at the ceiling for a moment, as he slowly recovered his awareness. Where was he? When was he?


	14. Chapter 14

Ignacio went to his front door and opened it carefully. The darkness of the night just before dawn was cool and eerily silent. No ghosts were in sight, no ghosts were talking to him. When was it – past, present, future? Was he back where he belonged?

A figure moved in the darkness – black against black. A tiny sparkle of silver glinted, a soft footfall betrayed a gentle step on the roof of the cuartel.

"Zorro!" Ignacio called softly. He watched as the figure paused, as if to camouflage with the night. "What day is this?"

The strange question seemed to startle the masked man out of his concern for his own safety and Ignacio watched as bright blue eyes turned to stare at him, glinting in the candle light.

"What did you say?"

"Come here, we can talk," Ignacio said.

Zorro laughed softly, and shook his head. "It is much safer for me on the roof, Alcalde. It's just before dawn…Christmas Day."

"Christmas Day!" The excitement in the alcalde's voice made Zorro flinch a little. "I haven't missed it. There's still time…"

"Are you quite alright, Alcalde?" Zorro said with concern.

"Yes, yes…the soldiers are asleep and locked in, are they? Good, good…go be with Victoria. Off you go…"

"Alcalde?" Zorro said, staring hard at the man. He had half a mind to ask more questions, but the man was already back inside the office.

Zzz

Ignacio rifled through some documents on his desk. Surely it was here somewhere…Yes, the file on the farmers yet to pay their taxes. He stared at it hard, and remembered the future suffering of his pueblo. They had been his people, the children, the families. He could absorb the debt. If…he gazed at the poster of Zorro on the wall. No, he was answerable to the governor for the reward money. It would have to come from his personal money. What was a few pesos to him? He had no family to support, his pay went to nothing and no one. He could do without a new suit for another six months, surely?

He threw the file on the fire, and turned and walked back to his room to get dressed for the day.

Zzz

The knock on the door came as no surprise. It was already open, and Diego de la Vega had taken the impulsive decision to come over to the office. He stood there, watching the alcalde with surprise, as he smiled and welcomed him in.

"Church was profitable?"

"Profitable?"

"Never mind," Ignacio said softly. A thought came to mind, and he gazed at Diego, taking in his height, his eyes, the structure of his jaw. The idea was outrageous, but all of a sudden he knew for sure.

"Victoria was very lovely last night," Ignacio said, prompting the man gently.

"What do you mean? I didn't notice particularly."

You didn't did you? You lie so well, Diego, but you lie. Pieces of the puzzle slid silently into place.

"Isn't it high time you married, Diego?"

"I suppose so, maybe," Diego said. "I did come here for a reason…"

"Did you?"

"I wanted to ask you to relax the laws. The two person restriction. There are so many people disappointed about it. I know I am wasting my breath, but I had to try."

"Yes."

Diego was already turning to leave, and he turned in surprise. "What?"

"I will relax the laws. Can you make sure everyone knows? I doubt anyone has prepared enough food, but we could celebrate over two days instead of just one."

"Alcalde? Are you sure you feel well?" A strange look came over Diego's face for a moment. He placed a cautious hand on his forehead gently.

"Diego, I am alright, truly." Ignacio said with exasperation. "Stop pawing me...now..."

Diego sighed and removed his hand. "It seems cool enough."

Ignacio smoothed down his suit thoughtfully, and sighed as well. "I am perfectly fine. I've been doing a lot of thinking, Don Diego. Perhaps it is time for a change..."

Diego looked a little confused, but then smiled.

"Well, Merry Christmas, Ignacio. And, thank you."

Diego paused preparing to leave again. "Ignacio?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have any plans for today? Any for tomorrow?"

"Why?"

"Ignacio…would you like to come to the hacienda? I am sure there is more than enough to share…."

"And what would your father say?"

"Father can close his mouth and treat people with the Christmas spirit for once. Ignacio," Diego said, staring deep into his eyes. "I am not trying to single you out. I am not pitying you. I genuinely want you to enjoy Christmas…please."

"Alright, Don Diego. You may need to defend me against your father's wrath, but I will come."


	15. Chapter 15

While Ignacio was saddling his horse, Diego raced across to the tavern, and knocked on the kitchen door.

Victoria opened it cautiously, wondering if the alcalde was deciding to do a spot check for extra visitors in the hope of catching Zorro red handed. She smiled at Diego gently.

"I saw you in church earlier, Diego. Merry Christmas."

"It's better than merry, Victoria. It's a Christmas miracle," he said excitedly. "Come on, grab your shawl or whatever. That nice new red one will be warm enough."

"What?" She stared at him with surprise, before hurriedly grabbing the soft shawl from Monterey. The one Zorro had only just given her.

"Any problem riding with me on Esperanza?"

"What's going on, Diego?"

"Ignacio has revoked the Christmas visiting restrictions," Diego said, guiding her outside to the horse. "We can have as many guests as we like."

"I doubt Maria knows that," Victoria said with a frown. "I've made so much spare food. Let me get a basket and fill it. Is that possible?" Diego sighed a little and nodded.

"It's not like you to be so excitable, Diego." She started packing the basket, and accepted his help when he joined her. "Really, I don't know what's come over you."

He covered her hand with his own, and she turned to look at him. "You look so beautiful today, Querida," he whispered. Her eyebrows rose and she took half a step backwards.

"Diego?"

"Victoria?" He said clearing his voice carefully.

"I thought you said something just now?" Diego stared at her and she blushed. Of course he would never have said what she thought she'd just heard. She was hearing things.

"Really? You must be like me, the midnight mass is a little too much for me too." Diego smiled. "I'll take the basket. I was willing to take you, so it's not an imposition."

"Perhaps I should take it. You might sample the food inside."

"I swear on…my family honour, I will not."

"You are far too cheeky this morning….how much sleep have you had?"

"None, I'm afraid. I will not surprise anyone when I doze off in the middle of someone's boring conversation about Zorro's latest exploits."

"Really, Diego!"

"I invited the alcalde…"

"You invited who?"

"It was a spur of the moment decision. He'd just revoked the laws, I was at a loss for thought."

"Obviously!"

"It's Christmas…"

"Yes. Be careful with that jar of pickles, you are going to knock it off the bench…." Too late. There was a loud crash and Victoria sighed.

"That's why men do not belong in my kitchen. Out with the horses, de la Vega! You can saddle Misty for me, if you want to help."

"I could sweep it up…"

"Out!" Victoria said, grabbing the broom and raising it towards his head.

"I'm going, I'm going," Diego said, laughing.

Zzz

Ignacio watched the young man move towards the tavern's stables and smiled a little. Now he had worked it out, it was so obvious. Diego was a swordsman, it was evident in the way he moved when he thought no one noticed him. Graceful and fluid, with a strong gait. A elegant sense of power under control oozed from the man, even from this distance.

Victoria's horse was unused to the caballero, but when he called the mare came. Diego scratched her behind her ears which she seemed to enjoy, and he murmured soothing sounds at the grey horse. Misty nuzzled him as if he had been her friend for years, and allowed him to saddle and bridle her.

"Diego!" Ignacio said, moving his horse alongside the stable. "I am ready whenever you are."

"Just a minute, Ignacio. You know women…"

Ignacio shook his head with a knowing smile.

Zzz

They rode with Ignacio a little on the outer. Diego watched as Victoria deliberately ignored the alcalde, and he felt sorry for the man.

"What did you used to do for the holiday, Ignacio?"

"This and that." He turned a little away. Diego took the hint not to pry, and nodded.

"You'll probably be overwhelmed. Christmas is done to death at the de la Vega household."

"You seem to get as excited as a child, Diego."

"I like to see everyone happy," Diego said simply. "I like to see eyes light up with surprise and joy. I have money, everything I want and need. I like to have an excuse to share it."

"No wonder you have an issue with me then…" Ignacio said softly. "My eyes are unlikely to light up with surprise and joy."

"I suppose not…" Diego murmured. "What is it that you want?"

"I hardly know these days. Last year I would have said Zorro's head in a basket, and the year before that. I wanted to go home to Madrid, but there is no joy anywhere I go, and Cadiz has too many bad memories."

"Well, I don't have Zorro's head in a basket," Diego said with a laugh. "Sorry about that…"

Ignacio smiled slightly.

"Don't even joke about that," Victoria whispered to Diego. "What is wrong with you today?"


End file.
